


The Exorcisor

by Innwich



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Exorcisms, Gen, Happy halloween, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 09:10:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8439811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Innwich/pseuds/Innwich
Summary: Demoman had heard the rumours. His teammates had long spoken of a devil that walked amongst them. It was on All Hallow’s Eve that Demoman decided to do Pyro a favour and performed an exorcism, so that no one would call Pyro a monster again.





	

Demoman gulped down the dregs of his bottle of scrumpy. The empty bottle tipped over when he pushed it to the far end of the table where the pile of bottles was growing. He had gone through half of the stash he had bought in preparation for Halloween, but the scrumpy hadn’t dulled the pain and horror he had suffered every time he had been blown up by his cursed eye today.

Ever since his eye had been stolen when he’d been a boy, he had dreaded the coming of Halloween night every year. In the weeks leading up to Halloween, he often had nightmares about the wicked book floating through his bedroom window and taking his other eye and turning him blind as his parents. When learning the cause of his fitful sleep, his mum had lectured him that going blind was nothing to be scared of. It was only a matter of how and when that he would lose his other eye, as was the fate of demolition experts. But she had let him stay at home and help with handing out sweets at the door every Halloween instead of telling him to look for jobs in the moors where unhappy spirits dwelled.

“I’m a one-eyed monster,” Demoman mumbled. “Even me eye is a gigantic flying monster.”

Demoman had travelled to and from the underworld through the portals that had been opened by his cursed eyeball. He had been knocked into the water underneath the rickety paths of the underworld and drowned in agony before he respawned and repeated the process. Even now, sitting by the buzzing heater in the rec room, he remembered wet bony hands grabbing his ankles and dragging him into the depths of the unmoving water.

“Mmmmph,” Pyro said from across the table.

“I haven’t told Mum that I’ve found me lost eye. I can’t bear tae tell her it shoots rockets.” Demoman wept. “Rockets, instead of the bombs of the DeGroot Clan. Me eye is a bloody traitor.”

“Mmmph mmm mmmm.” Pyro patted him on his head. Then Pyro dropped a lit match into another one of Demoman’s empty bottles, and grumbled when the contents didn’t catch fire.

Demoman peered around the rec room. A baseball game was playing on television, but no one was watching it. It was just Pyro and Demoman and his crates of scrumpy. “Say, where are the rest of the lads?”

Pyro shrugged. “Mm mm mmmph mmm mmmmph.”

“I bet they’ve gone trick-or-treating,” Demoman said blearily, “or they’re terrorising young lads intae handing over their sweets. Why didnae they take ye with them?”

Pyro dumped a few drops of scrumpy out of a bottle, and drew a skull and crossbones on the table with the liquid. “Mmmm mph mmmmph mm mmm mmmmph. Mmm mph mmmm mm.”

Demoman had no idea what Pyro said, but he might understand the gist of it. He had known what it was like to be seen as a monster. Kids had avoided him since he had started going to school with an eyepatch over his empty eye socket. Pyro tagged along when the team went out to the towns nearby, but no one really invited Pyro. Or maybe he was just projecting himself onto Pyro.

He scratched at the damp label on an unopened bottle of scrumpy. The words on the label were leaping about and making him dizzy when he stared for too long. “They think I’m a monster, and they think ye’re a monster too.”

“Mmmmph,” Pyro said.

“No one deserves tae be known as a monster.” Demoman wiped off his tears. His teammates might fear Pyro, but monsters didn’t scare Demoman. He had slayed creatures that were unheard of outside the Highlands. “I’ll help ye.”

Pyro looked at him. “Mmm mmmph?”

“I’ll do an exorcism for ye. I’ll save ye from the wretched demon that has possessed ye,” Demoman said.

Pyro pulled him into a bear hug, and crushed his breath out of him.

“Ye’re a good friend,” Demoman wheezed.

They relocated to the basement after Demoman had gathered his supplies for doing an exorcism.

The lone light bulb dangling from the ceiling of the basement was turned off. Pyro lit a candle, and was dripping its melted wax onto the concrete floor. Before the wax had cooled, Pyro stuck an unlit candle in each pool of wax so that the candle stood upright on the floor. A circle of candles was forming around the pentagram that Pyro had drawn on the floor with a piece of charcoal.

Demoman shrugged on a black clergy shirt over his flak jacket. The clergy shirt was too tight in the shoulders and chest for him to button it up, so he left it hanging open. The white plastic clerical collar fit snugly around his neck. A heavy golden cross necklace hung from his neck.

“We shall begin the ritual.” Demoman uncapped the bottle in which he kept his holy water.

Pyro plopped down on the floor and sat the middle of the circle of lit candles.

“I speak now tae the one whose body is possessed. Ye must answer me truthfully for this tae work,” Demoman said. “Do ye trust me?”

“Mm,” Pyro said.

“I need ye tae keep trusting me for the rest of the exorcism. The exorcism won’t hurt ye. It’ll only hurt impure things that prey on the innocent,” Demoman said.

“Mmm mmmph mmph.”

Demoman sprinkled holy water over Pyro. “Tae the intruder that is residing inside this fleshy tomb: Ye dunnae belong. Our bodies are the temples of the Holy Spirit. There is a special circle of hell for demons like ye.”

The candles flickered.

“Begone! Ye wicked thing! Corruptor of souls!” Demoman said.

Soldier kicked open the basement door behind Demoman. The loud slam made Demoman jump. Demoman nearly dropped his bottle of holy water, and he swore.

“I heard noises. Why are the lights out?” Soldier said.

Demoman scowled at the interruption. “Shove off, ye nosey parker.”

“Are you performing an exorcism?” Soldier said, inspecting Demoman’s clerical clothes. “I love exorcising ghosts on Halloween night too.”

“Leave us alone. This exorcism is between me and me mate. There’s no room for two priests,” Demoman said.

“I can be an altar boy. I’ll beat the crap out of any ghost that tries to escape,” Soldier offered.

Demoman glowered at him. “No, I dunnae need an altar boy.”

“Oh,” Soldier said. “Can I watch?”

Demoman wanted to get back to the exorcism. The night wouldn’t stretch on forever. Soldier could be stubborn as a mule when he dug his heels in and Demoman didn’t have the time or the patience to tussle with Soldier. Demoman warned him, “Only if ye dunnae say a word.”

“I won’t make a peep,” Soldier said.

Demoman turned back to the circle of candles where Pyro was sitting. Pyro had inflated a balloon while Demoman and Soldier had been arguing. The balloon was pink and in the shape of a chubby unicorn. It hovered above Pyro’s hand as if it had been filled with helium.

Pyro held it out to Demoman. “Mmmph.”

“For me?” Demoman said sceptically.

Pyro nodded.

The balloon burst into flames as soon as Demoman took it, and his woollen cap caught on fire. Pyro was laughing.

“Me hair!” Demoman patted at the fire, but it only fanned the flames. He grabbed his bottle and doused the fire with holy water.

“Good work, son,” Soldier said.

“I dunnae need yer commentary,” Demoman said. He flung his soaked cap to the floor. “Ye dunnae scare me, demon. I’ll save me friend.”

Demoman had used up his holy water to put out the fire, so he pulled out his hipflask and blessed his scrumpy. Alcohol was far more potent than water. He wouldn’t be trying this if he weren’t at his wits’ ends.

Demoman stepped up to Pyro with his mouth set in a grim line. “This will hurt but it’s for the good of mankind. Ye’ll return tae Hell where ye hail from, demon.”

Demoman poured the blessed scrumpy onto Pyro. The candles around Pyro flared.

“Mmm mm mmmmph! Mmmph!” Pyro said.

“The demon is leaving the body,” Demoman shouted.

“Where is it?” Soldier yelled.

Pyro pointed behind Demoman. Demoman spun around, expecting to gaze upon the physical manifestation of evil itself, only to find Spy leaning against the wall and blowing out cigarette smoke.

“Dunnae ye know how tae knock? How long have ye been standing there?” Demoman bristled.

“Not long enough to understand what you are doing,” Spy said, unfolding his arms. “But that shirt and cross you’re wearing belong to me. I’d like my clothes back, if you please.”

“I’ll give them when I’m done. It’s nae like ye need them,” Demoman said.

“I’m reorganising my wardrobe,” Spy said. “Besides, you’re hardly qualified to wear such attire.”

“How am I less qualified tae wear it than ye? Ye helped Pyro get a priest shirt too,” Demoman said accusingly.

Pyro flashed Spy a thumbs-up.

Spy shuddered. “I did no such thing.”

Demoman opened his mouth and closed it. It was true that he had no proof that Spy willingly get similar clothes for Pyro, but Spy didn’t breathe an insult when Pyro wore it either. Spy was lighting his already lit cigarette and pointedly refusing to look in Pyro’s direction. “Medic and Soldier have priest shirts that look just like this. How do ye explain that?”

“I’m a real priest. My paperwork says so,” Soldier said.

“Your paperwork doesn’t count if it’s conjured by yer roommate with magic, for God’s sake.”

“That’s a lie.” Soldier picked his nose. “I don’t need Merasmus’s magic to win a poker game.”

“Dunnae tell me ye won yer paperwork in a poker game,” Demoman said flatly.

“I won it in a poker game where two men were cheating. Where did you think priests get their priest licenses?” Soldier said.

Demoman glared at him. “Priests dunnae need licenses to work in a church. There are no such things as priest licenses.”

“Yes, they do. I have one in my pocket right now,” Soldier said. “Medic has one too. He showed it to me a few days after I questioned him about his licence for dressing up like a priest.”

“It’s nae real. He made it himself.” Demoman was close to tearing his hair out. “If Medic were a priest, I’d be the bloody Virgin Mary.”

“I’ve heard enough of this nonsense.” Spy pinched the bridge of his own nose. “You’re drunk and he’s an imbecile.”

“I’m nae drunk. I’m nae even sober,” Demoman retorted.

Spy ripped the clergy shirt and the golden cross off of Demoman with a flourish. “No, I think not.”

“Och. Give it back.” Demoman made a wild grab for Spy, but Spy dodged his tackle. There was a swishing noise as Spy activated his cloaking watch and disappeared. There was no way to find Spy now, short of staking out the bathroom for the rest of the night. Demoman was left fuming at the door with his neck bare of religious jewellery. “Ye stingy snake, ye ruin me exorcism!”

Demoman stomped back to circle of candles. Pyro was warming both gloved hands over the tiny flames. Demoman muttered under his breath. He had been close to exorcising the demon but Spy had taken away the little authority Demoman could hold over evil spirits. 

“It’s my turn,” Soldier declared. “You, sit where you are. You, watch and learn. This is how the big guns do it.”

His orders had little effect since Pyro hadn’t moved from the floor. Demoman reached for his flask before he remembered he had emptied it on the floor for the exorcism. Exorcism was dangerous business if the exorcist was incompetent. Demoman couldn’t leave Pyro alone with Soldier in good conscience. With his mind on the crate of scrumpy that he had left in the rec room, Demoman resigned himself to keeping watch over Soldier’s ritual.

“The power of Christ compels you,” Soldier said to Pyro.

“Mmph mmmm.” Pyro poked at a candle.

Demoman sighed. “I dinnae ask for a re-enactment of _the Exorcist_ , ye know, Soldier. I thought ye said ye know how tae do this.”

“A real priest doesn’t need fancy college words to perform an exorcism. What it takes are dedication and patience and a shit-ton of faith. You have to keep repeating the rite till it sticks and exorcises the spirit,” Soldier said. “The power of Christ compels you.”

“Mmmmm mm,” Pyro said.

“The power of Christ compels you.”

“Mmmmph.”

“The power of Christ compels you.”

“Mmmm mmph mm mm.”

“The power of Christ compels you.”

“Soldier, ye idiot. It doesn’t work,” Demoman grumbled. “Have ye watched the end of the bloody film?”

“The power of Christ compels you, dammit!” Soldier yelled.

Pyro looked up from the candles, and said loudly, “Mmph!”

“The power of Christ compels you!”

“Mmmmmmmm!” Pyro stood up in the centre of the circle of burning candles.

“It’s working. The power of Christ compels you!” Soldier said, raising his voice to a scream. “The power of Christ compels you!”

Pyro heaved, and breathed a scorching stream of fire out of the gas mask. Before the flames in the air faded, a ring of fire burst from the ground at Pyro’s boots. The force of the blast threw Demoman into a wall. Soldier hit the wall next to him.

Demonic laughter thundered through the room. It was ringing out from behind Pyro’s gas mask.

Demoman groaned. The floor was spinning under him as he slid down the wall. The back of his head was aching and his neck was stiff where he had hit the wall. He couldn’t move his head without bursts of pain shooting through his skull. “I think I’ve cracked a bone in me neck.”

In the centre of the room, the circle of candles had burned out. Instead, Pyro had inflated an inflatable children’s pool, and emptied a canister of gasoline into the pool. The smell of gasoline rolled over Demoman and made him want to gag. He had never liked the smell; bombs and inflammable liquid made for a bad combination. Pyro was sitting cross-legged in the pool, laughing and dunking a yellow rubber duck in and out of the gasoline. Demoman was sure the pool and the gasoline hadn’t been in the room before.

Soldier was oddly quiet. Demoman couldn’t see Soldier but he couldn’t turn his head to look.

“Soldier, can ye walk?” Demoman said.

“Negatory. It feels like fire ants are having a buffet on my back and they’ve brought their friends over for the slumber party.”

Demoman winced. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It feels worse,” Soldier said. “I think I broke my back.”

“I can’t move either,” Demoman said, watching Pyro splash around in the gasoline. “Do ye think the demon will get Medic for us?”

“Mmmmm mmm mmmph mmmph” Pyro objected.

Demoman hazarded a guess. “Ye’ll do it? Is that what ye’re saying?”

“Mmm mph mmm mmmph,” Pyro said.

“Speak up. I can’t hear you behind that mask,” Soldier barked.

“Mmmph. Mmmm mmmmph mmm mm mmmph,” Pyro said with crossed arms. “Mm.”

“I don’t know what you said but I’m offended,” Soldier said. “Take it back, demon-maggot. You don’t want me to walk over there with a broken back.”

Pyro ignored him and returned to dunking the rubber duck into the pool of gasoline as the bath toy struggled to float up to the surface for air.

“We’ll have tae wait for someone tae come fetch us then,” Demoman said.

“That will be a long wait. No one comes down here unless a fuse box is blown.” Soldier picked his nose, but he pulled his finger out of his nose when he found his nose had been picked clean. “Alright. Since there’s nothing for me to do except to sit and suffer, it’s lights out, ladies. One of you wake me up when my back is fixed.”

“Do what ye want. I dunnae care if ye sleep in a minute or an hour, as long as ye’re quiet,” Demoman grumbled.

“Is that a bet? Because I’ll take that bet and raise it,” Soldier said. “I bet you I’ll fall asleep in thirty seconds. Starting from now.”

Demoman wasn’t counting, but Soldier started snoring soon after he stopped talking. The relative silence left behind by Soldier gave Demoman too much space to regret everything he had done. He hated himself for losing his eye, he hated Merasmus for stealing his eye, he hated his eye for becoming a rocket-shooting abomination, and, most of all, he hated Spy for forcing him to end his exorcism before it had been completed.

“This wouldn’t have happened if Spy hadn’t interrupted me exorcism,” Demoman said. “I’ll kick his arse when I can walk again.”

Pyro clapped and cheered. “Mmm mmmph!”

“Aye, ye can join too,” Demoman said.

Pyro jostled Demoman’s broken neck in another suffocating bear hug. Demoman hugged Pyro back, as his flak jacket soaked up the gasoline on Pyro’s rubber suit, and thought maybe he had done one thing right tonight.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Some references to in-game itemes:**  
>  -The [Exorcizor](https://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Exorcizor) was originally a Spy-only cosmetic. It can now be equipped by Spy, Soldier, Pyro, and Medic.  
> -The Pyro taunts mentioned are [Party Trick](https://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Party_Trick), [Armageddon](https://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Armageddon) (Rainblower’s taunt), and [Pool Party](https://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Pool_Party).


End file.
